The Brandybuck Curse
by Lady Alyssa
Summary: Probably one of the first LotR male pregnancy fics. Merry/Pippin *slash*. Don't take it seriously. Chapter 3 finally written and uploaded.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me - if they did do you really think I'd be writing slash on the Internet and not making any money out of it?  
  
Story Notes: Set pre-LotR. This is not meant to be taken seriously, so please don't and flames will just be posted on my website to be laughed at.  
  
This story, the surprisingly popular 'Bagenders' series and much other random weirdness by me and Random Flatmate has been archived in our new website, www.bagenders.fcpages.com.  
  
  
  
"You know you really should lay off the beer if that's what it's doing to you these days," Merry shouted through the door between his bedroom and dressing room. Usually it was great fun when his life-long friend and recent lover Pippin came to visit, but usually, Pippin didn't spend this much of his time at Brandy Hall so desperately hungover. When Pippin didn't reply, Merry went back to the bed, pulling on the loose nightshirt which had been flung across to the other side of the room on the way, and sprawled out invitingly on the bed to wait for him to come back.  
  
A few minutes later there was a thump as Pippin hit the bed next to Merry. All previous thoughts of how they could spend the rest of the morning together were forgotten as Pippin curled up pitifully next to Merry, who decided to let him sleep it off and put his arms around him and kissed his forehead before they both drifted off to sleep.  
  
When Merry awoke, Pippin was gone and a search of the bedroom and dressing room showed no sign of him, but there was a note on the table: "My Dearest Merry, I have gone back to Tuckborough to think over some very important matters and will contact you in due course, Pippin." Merry sat down on the edge of the bed and began to cry. If Pippin had left without saying anything, it must have been something important. Either he was going to ask him to spend the rest of his life with him, or else he was going to leave him. Merry decided it must be the latter. He looked down at his nightshirt; it must be all this weight he'd been putting on recently, Pippin must find him so unattractive now. He threw himself back on to the pillows and sobbed.  
  
*****  
  
Shortly after nightfall, Pippin arrived back in Tuckborough and straight away made for the safety and comfort of his own room in his family's huge hole, stopping only to visit the kitchens to make himself a snack as he had missed dinner and felt to hungry and antisocial to join the rest of the family at supper later.  
  
In his room he took the seat he always did when he needed to do some important thinking: on top of the chest of drawers. 'I will contact you in due course'? How could he have been so stupid, he must have given Merry completely the wrong idea. And he wasn't going to cry about it, well, not much anyway.  
  
This was how sister Pearl, 15 years older and very much wiser found him half an hour later, perched on the chest of drawers with a tearstained face and his sandwich untouched and forgotten. She had taken it upon herself on the day of her brother's birth to look after him and give him the benefit of all of her experience in the world, as she reckoned that she would only just have worked out how to use this experience by the time young Peregrin needed it.  
  
"Are you going to tell me what happened in Buckland, or am I going to have to drag it out of you?" she asked, putting her arm round Pippin's shoulder.  
  
Pippin looked up at her and decided that it would be best just to tell the truth; Pearl was becoming quite a matriarch and her newfound ability to make him feel seven years old again made her very difficult to lie to. He took a deep breath. "You're going to be an aunt."  
  
Pearl looked taken aback. "Oh Pip, I thought you had more sense than that, although having a girlfriend in Buckland would explain why you spend so much time there. But at your age! Twenty-five is far too young to be thinking about things like that." Pippin burst into tears again. "Who is it? This isn't a repeat of that dreadful business with cousin Adelard and the housekeeper's daughter, is it?"  
  
Pippin shook his head. "You remember my friend Merry Brandybuck?"  
  
"You didn't sleep with his girlfriend? Pip, he's your best friend!"  
  
"No, no, it's Merry's baby," he wailed into her dress.  
  
"Oh dear, but you don't need to go upsetting yourself about that, it isn't nice for Merry that something like that's happened to him, but it isn't your fault. Merry's a lot older than you and should know more about how not to get himself into trouble with girls," said Pearl, hugging him.  
  
Pippin blinked up at her. "What are you talking about? No one's been getting into trouble with girls; there aren't any girls involved. Merry's got himself into trouble with me."  
  
Now it was Pearl's turn to look shocked again, but she quickly recovered herself. "I know there's been a lot of gossip about you two (someone really should have had a word with you about wearing mascara in public), and I only half believed it, usually that sort of thing doesn't happen in old-fashioned rustic places like the Shire, but you never can trust Bucklanders; they breed altogether too fast in the conventional manner. But didn't father sit you down and have a little talk with you a few years ago about this sort of thing." Pippin nodded. "Didn't he explain that it's only girls who have babies? Boys don't, it's…unnatural."  
  
"I know it doesn't usually happen, but I think we're different. I've heard about it happening to Elves in stories, they have things like fertility enchantments and, and…"  
  
"But you're not a girl, and you aren't built for things like that. How's the baby going to get out?"  
  
"I don't know. But what I do know is that I'm pregnant! I can feel it." Pippin went over to the opposite corner of the room and sulked.  
  
"What's in this?" asked Pearl, investigating the contents of the sandwich on top of the chest of drawers. "It looks like a sardine and gooseberry jam sandwich."  
  
"It is. Merry eats them all the time, I know it sounds odd – they're something of an acquired taste – but I rather like them."  
  
"You really are convinced you're pregnant aren't you?"  
  
"No, I am pregnant."  
  
"Alright, alright, you're pregnant. But don't tell anyone, especially not father."  
  
"Why not? Do you think he won't approve?"  
  
"No, he'll think you're insane and disinherit you."  
  
*****  
  
Merry decided that it was time to pull himself together. He was just going to have to face up to the fact that Pippin didn't love him any more because he was too fat like a proper grown-up. By going to cry about it to his cousin Frodo, and then getting blind drunk. He put some things into a sack and borrowed a pony from the stables and set off on the road west.  
  
By the time Merry arrived at Bag End, he was in an even worse state than when he left home that morning. He knocked on the door just as Frodo was just about to sit down to afternoon tea.  
  
"Hello." Frodo's cheerful greeting seemed to die as it left him and his face took on a worried expression. "Merry, what's happened? Did somebody die?"  
  
"No, everyone was fine when I left. I don't really want to talk about it now." Frodo put his arm around his cousin and pulled him into the hole, sat him down in the biggest comfy chair and went to make the tea, telling Merry to help himself to the food on the table.  
  
"My goodness Merry," said Frodo as he came back into the room. "Are you eating for two or something?" No sooner were the words out of his mouth than Frodo clapped his hand over it.  
  
Merry didn't seem to notice, but put his head in his hands and began crying again. "It's terrible! I've been putting on so much weight and Pippin doesn't find me attractive any more!" He descended into incoherent, melodramatic wailing.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Me and Pippin, we've been, you know, for the last few months put now he doesn't want to any more because I look so awful!"  
  
"You and Pippin were doing what exactly…?"  
  
"We were, you know, having sex. You don't want to know the exact details do you?"  
  
"No, but Merry, did your dad ever sit down and have a little talk with you?"  
  
"About boy Hobbits and girl Hobbits and when they love each other very much?"  
  
"Well, sort of. He never mentioned anything about boy Hobbits and other boy Hobbits?"  
  
"No, that sort of thing's unnatural. Except that with Pippin it was so much fun that I didn't care."  
  
"He didn't mention anything about the Brandybuck Curse did he?"  
  
"This is no time for ghost stories, Frodo, I need to talk to another Hobbit who everyone always assumes is gay about the problems in my relationship and/or doubts about my sexuality. This isn't how it's supposed to go."  
  
"You mean he never told you? I suppose he saw it coming, lets face it, you're not exactly butch are you, and it's not just that floral shirt you're wearing, and you've always been good with children. I suppose he didn't want you to think you could have it both ways and this might persuade you to produce an heir in a more conventional way."  
  
"Heir?"  
  
"Ok, I've got a lot of explaining to do." Frodo took Merry into the library and pulled a thick tome off one of the shelves. The pages were filled with Bilbo's neat, meticulous handwriting. "This was one of the last books Bilbo wrote before he left the Shire, I went with him to Buckland as his research assistant, since I'm sort of involved anyway. You know the story about how Hobbits came to settle the land east of the Brandywine?"  
  
"Yes, Gorhendad Oldbuck decided he needed to set his family up in a hole of their own, and since he was the youngest son in his family and he wasn't going to inherit, he had to claim some that didn't belong to anyone else."  
  
"Yes, but what they don't tell everyone is why he had to go so far away," said Frodo mysteriously.  
  
"Are you going to tell me, or are you just going to stand there trying to be dramatic?"  
  
"I'm just going to stand here looking dramatic." Merry glared at him. "Alright, I'll tell you. Old Gorhendad got himself into an argument with an elf lady he met in the woods one day; she was sitting down having a rest in the road with her great long legs stretched across it so he couldn't get past. So he asked her to move, and she said she wouldn't, because she was tired and her back hurt and her feet hurt and she was going to give birth any day now and told him to bugger off and find another way of getting past. And then he said he wouldn't and she got bitchy and said some things you really wouldn't expect to hear from and elf and then the story says that he got overexcited and kicked her in the shins and that really pissed her off, so she put a curse on him."  
  
"What was the curse?"  
  
"That he should have to find out what it was like to be in her situation. But there's something about being with child that affects women, makes them go a bit odd, and she put the curse on a little bit too strong, so that all his male descendents inherited being able to have babies. Except it only works if they do it with another male Hobbit who's also under the influence of the curse."  
  
"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard," said Merry. "I came to you looking for advice, not to hear silly stories that fill in the gaps in a tenuously connected plot and to be accused of being pregnant. And anyway, you missed one important point, Pippin isn't a Brandybuck, so even if this curse did exist, I couldn't be pregnant, so hah!"  
  
"Merry, don't stick your tongue out, you're far too old for that and it doesn't suit you. But this is where things really start to get weird. You see, while Pippin is very much his father's son, he doesn't so much have a mother as another father. Did you ever notice how much he looks like our distant cousin Marmadas…?"  
  
"Eww. I knew old Marmadas was weird, but that's, that's…"  
  
"The power of a magic elven curse for you."  
  
"But Pippin's father isn't a Brandybuck either."  
  
"Yes, but the Tooks and the Brandybucks have intermarried a lot, even according to the 'official' family trees, the real ones make us look even more incestuous."  
  
"But how do they, you know, actually have the babies."  
  
"You know I never dared ask and I don't think Bilbo did either. But can you think of any other explanation for why you're eating a cheese and custard sandwich and why, why…" Frodo looked down in horror. "Why your stomach just moved all on it's own?"  
  
They both stared as Merry's 'fat' kicked again.  
  
"I think we'd better go have a talk with Pippin."  
  
Frodo nodded in agreement. "And a midwife."  
  
*****  
  
The next morning Pippin was making his third attempt on second breakfast when his sister came to see him again.  
  
"Urgh, is that mint sauce you've put on your toast and strawberry jam? Whether Merry's got you up the duff or not, he's certainly a bad influence on you."  
  
Pippin scowled at her but didn't say anything, and curled protectively around where he expected there to be a bump in a few weeks or months.  
  
"Anyway, I've written to him and asked him to come and see you to see if we can get any sense into your both your heads. You've both got the responsibility to produce an heir, so you're going to have to get used to the idea of marriage."  
  
"You mean I can get married to Merry?" asked Pippin, a note of hope in his voice.  
  
"No, you can't, and claiming to be carrying his child isn't going to change that. You're both going to have to marry girls at some point, which means you'll have to give up on this silly relationship idea, or at least find some very understanding wives."  
  
"It's not silly, I'm in love with him."  
  
"Yes, maybe you think you are, but you also think you're pregnant and you can't consent to marriage unless you're of sound mind."  
  
Pippin opened his mouth to counter her comment with a witty remark, but closed it again as he failed to think of one.  
  
"In the meantime, remember what I said about keeping out of the way of mother and father, and if they do come to see you, just try to act normal, or at least the way you usually act. We're going to get this all sorted out without you disgracing the family." This last part was made to sound suspiciously like a threat.  
  
She got up and walked towards the door, and just as she was about to leave she stopped and turned round. "I was wondering, if you're looking for something to keep you occupied, would you mind looking after Primrose for me for a while this afternoon?"  
  
*****  
  
It was later that same day that Frodo and Merry rode into Tuckborough in search of Pippin. So as not to arouse any suspicions they tried to act as if this was just another social call, but this was proving difficult as Merry seemed to be unable to control his tears.  
  
"Pull yourself together Merry."  
  
"But I can't, everything here reminds me of Pippin."  
  
"Of course it does, this is his house."  
  
Merry blew his nose on the hem of his big loose shirt.  
  
"And I know you have to hide the bump, but was there any particular reason why you had to buy a pastel pink shirt to do so?"  
  
Merry began to cry again. "It was my decision. Everyone thinks I'm weird, or stupid, first Pippin and now you! Why does everyone hate me so much?" Frodo decided he couldn't deal with this amount of melodrama at the moment, so grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him down the corridor towards Pippin's room.  
  
Outside Pippin's door a strange noise could be heard. Giggling. Female giggling. This was enough to start Merry off again, but Frodo clamped his hand over his mouth before his howls threatened to become audible through the door. Then Frodo knocked quietly, half hoping not to be heard.  
  
Through the door they could hear Pippin clear his throat, then a few last dying giggles. "Come in."  
  
Frodo opened the door very cautiously to reveal that Pippin was in fact in his room with a girl. A girl of about 4 years old, his niece to be exact and she looked a little annoyed that their tickle fight had just been cut short. Merry took one look at the scene and began crying even more. He tried to run towards his lover with arms outstretched to hug him, but Frodo grabbed the back of his shirt just in time to stop him.  
  
Oblivious to his tears, the child threw herself at Merry and attempted to climb into his arms. "Uncle Merry, Uncle Merry, come and play with us."  
  
Frodo gently lifted her down. "We'll play with you later, Primrose, but right now me and Uncle Merry and Uncle Pippin need to have a grown up's talk, so why don't you go find your parents."  
  
Primrose nodded and ran out through the door in search of someone else to bother. Pippin looked at the other two Hobbits in his doorway with surprise and anger.  
  
"I thought I made it clear that I wanted to be alone and I didn't need the two of you to come chasing me halfway across the Shire."  
  
"Yes, maybe you did, but you also need to have a very serious talk with Merry," said Frodo.  
  
"Why? Is everything alright?" asked Pippin as he looked his tearful cousin.  
  
"Pippin, I'm pregnant!"  
  
It was at that exact moment that Pearl chose to reappear. "I didn't expect the letter to reach you so soon, but it's a good thing that you're both here, you have to try and talk some sense into my brother." She paused. "Is everything alright."  
  
"No," said Pippin in a small and distant voice. "Merry thinks he's pregnant."  
  
"What? First you think you're pregnant, then you think he's crazy because he thinks he is too. You must really be losing your mind, but at least you know now how absurd it sounded when you told me."  
  
"Pippin thinks he's pregnant?" Merry and Frodo both stared at him in shock.  
  
Pippin nodded and Merry ran forward and took him into his arms.  
  
"Is anyone going to give me a coherent explanation for any of this, or are you all just going to cry at me some more?"  
  
"I think I can, but you'd all better sit down," said Frodo, taking the huge book out of his rucksack. "This is all because of something called the Brandybuck Curse."  
  
"Stop winding us up Frodo, I'm in no mood for a ghost story," said Pearl.  
  
"This is not a ghost story," said Frodo through gritted teeth. "So just sit down and I'll explain it to you."  
  
*****  
  
Fifteen minutes later Pippin and Pearl were sitting in stunned silence on Pippin's bed trying to process the information they'd just been given.  
  
"So you're saying that me and Merry have broken all known natural laws because of some inherited curse and that my mother is not really my mother?" asked Pippin.  
  
"In a word, yes." Answered Frodo  
  
"And that Pippin is in fact pregnant?" said Pearl  
  
"Again, yes."  
  
"Does our mother know about all of this?"  
  
"Of course she does, she must have noticed that she didn't give birth to one of her children."  
  
"But there is one good thing about all of this, at least father isn't going to disinherit me because I'm crazy enough to think I'm pregnant." Pippin looked pleased with this bit of logic.  
  
"So what happens now?" asked Merry.  
  
*****  
  
That night Merry and Pippin sat hand in hand in the grounds of Great Smials, watching the moon rise over the hills. That afternoon some hurried talks had been conducted and Pippin's suitcases had been packed ready for them to leave for Buckland the next morning, where they would stay until the babies were born – the midwives there had quite a bit of experience in their unusual situation. Pippin's father hadn't really been in any position to object to what had happened, but seemed a little guilty that certain pieces of information hadn't been passed on before and his mother seemed pleased with the idea of more grandchildren once she'd got used to it and was already knitting baby clothes.  
  
"You know what, Merry?"  
  
"What Pippin?"  
  
"We should get married."  
  
"But we can't get married, we could only get married if one of us was a girl, and I don't think either of us would like that very much."  
  
"No, I suppose we wouldn't, so lets just promise to stay together forever and pretend like we're married."  
  
"You know what Pippin?"  
  
"What Merry?"  
  
"I love you." 


	2. Chapter 2

Brandy Hall was a very well equipped aristocratic residence when it came to housing its inhabitants. There were not only rooms for guests, but separate holes and houses, some of which were used furthermore by those who wanted a little peace and quiet away from life in the main hall, such as some of the older great-aunts, the expectant mothers, and also, rather uniquely, expectant fathers. This is, of course, is not meant in the conventional way - that these are men waiting nervously outside the delivery room listening to their wives curse them and call them bastards - but men who were likely to take part in the cursing themselves for the Brandybucks were the victims of a somewhat unusual curse visited on them by an irate pregnant elf many years ago which meant that their males would often find themselves 'in the family way' after partaking of certain intimate activities with one of their own gender. It is the most secluded and discreet of these holes that we now find Frodo,  
Merry and Pippin.  
  
The arrangement had been in place for almost a month now and it was beginning to drive Frodo up the wall. After finding out about each other's pregnancies, Merry and Pippin had decided to, temporarily at least, move in together in Buckland where the only midwife with experience in dealing with their situation would be within easy reach should anything go wrong. Frodo had volunteered to go with them as a sort of chaperone at the suggestion of Pippin's sister who had said that as tempers tended to become shorter as pregnancies became longer they may have some difficulty in looking after each other. But if this was how they were behaving at this early stage in the proceedings, Frodo was unsure of how much longer he would be willing to stick around.  
  
Breakfast had been relatively uneventful apart from when Pippin decided he wasn't talking to Merry because he had eaten the last of the lemon curd and Merry locked himself in his room (after the first three days the idea of he and Pippin sharing had been given up on) and had been in there crying solidly for three hours and still hadn't come out. Frodo decided that it was time to make another token attempt at talking him out.  
  
"Merry...?"  
  
No answer.  
  
"Merry...are you alright? Can I come in?"  
  
"No!"  
  
"No, you're not alright, or no, I can't come in?"  
  
"Both."  
  
Well, at least he was talking this time and not just throwing things at the door like he had when Pippin had been persuaded to try. The two of them were becoming more accustomed to Merry's increasingly violent mood swings and had taken the precaution of removing anything breakable from his room, and after discovering that when he was really upset that not even the prospect of missing a meal would bring him out, leaving some food in there as well.  
  
"What's the matter?"  
  
"You know, you were there. Pippin hates me! He hates me and he doesn't find me attractive any more and you probably hate me too!"  
  
"Of course I don't hate you, and Pippin doesn't hate you either. He knows that this is just temporary and anyway, he's pregnant too, so it would be a bit hypocritical if he was ignoring you because of that."  
  
"But I look so much worse than he does, it's getting difficult even to hug now!"  
  
"Yes, the midwife explained this to you, didn't she? Pippin just hasn't been pregnant for as long as you have, so his baby isn't as big, he'll look just like you do soon and by that time yours will have been born and you'll look nearly normal again."  
  
Unfortunately, Merry was in no mood to listen to reason, so he threw some of the pillows at the door and returned to his previous inarticulate wailing, ignoring anything else Frodo said. Frodo put his hand into his pocket; maybe this was just the time to disappear for a while, he'd been doing it a lot recently, just curling up invisibly in a corner with a book when he needed a break, but put it back hurriedly when he heard Pippin coming round the corner.  
  
Pippin looked at Frodo hopefully, but Frodo shook his head. They retreated to the kitchen where their conversation wouldn't be overheard.  
  
"He still won't come out?" asked Pippin. "Is he trying for the record or something?"  
  
"He can't help it, the midwife said that's what happens to girls, so we shouldn't be surprised if it happens to you two, it's normal, if that word applies to you two in any way."  
  
"Well, if it happens to me, I want you to take me out to the river and drown me, or at least throw me in to teach me a lesson."  
  
"Um...Pippin, this might seem like a strange question, but what's that on your head?"  
  
Pippin attempted to look up at the scarf knotted round his own head. "That? It's just something to keep my hair out of my eyes, and the dust out of my hair, of course."  
  
"Why on earth do you need something to keep your hair out of your eyes?"  
  
"Have you ever tried dusting a whole house? No, I didn't think so, you'll know if you ever try."  
  
"Pippin, why are you dusting the whole house? A maid comes in from Brandy Hall every few days to see to what needs doing, and anyway, I've seen your bedroom at home, you've never lifted a finger around the house in your life."  
  
"But haven't you seen the state of this place? It's a mess! My baby isn't going to be born in a dirty house and neither is Merry's."  
  
"It isn't dirty, it was cleaned two days ago and it's going to be cleaned again tomorrow."  
  
"It is, look at this." Pippin ran his finger along the top of one of the cabinets. "Do you see that?"  
  
Frodo peered at the two specks of dust on the end of Pippin's finger. "I think so."  
  
"It's disgusting, isn't it" This house is no place for a baby, but I'm going to change that. If anyone wants me I'll be out in the back garden beating the rugs." Pippin picked up the carpet beater and headed for the back door.  
  
"Should you be doing that? You know, in your condition?"  
  
"What do you mean, 'in my condition', are you saying I can't look after myself? I'm just pregnant, it's not like I'm ill or anything."  
  
Frodo leaned forward and started banging his head on the kitchen table. It was going to be how long? About another five or six months the midwife had said, before they would both be able to go back? It was not going to be easy, but at least they wouldn't end up killing each other if he was there to break up the arguments. Or at least they probably wouldn't kill each other, and that was only if Frodo didn't end up killing both of them first and burying them in the flower beds.  
  
Six months... Frodo made himself a cup of tea, settled down next to the fire with a book and slipped on the ring. Good old Bilbo, he could never have known how useful it would turn out to be.  
  
*****  
  
Fortunately, the argument seemed to have been resolved by that evening. After beating the rugs Pippin had gone to the kitchens and charmed another three jars of lemon curd out of someone and presented them to Merry for his own personal use. Merry had accepted them graciously, even though what had happened that morning cured him of that particular craving for the rest of his pregnancy and Pippin ended up eating them all a fortnight later. Out of the jar with a spoon as well - Frodo hadn't been able to watch for fear of being sick.  
  
Visits from the midwife were becoming more and more frequent and Frodo was becoming better and better acquainted with the inside of the airing cupboard - the midwife, a robust, unmarried Hobbit in her early fifties, quite frankly gave Frodo the fear and he was sure that the reason she had been able to stop Pippin from throwing up every morning had more to do with intimidation than the thick green mixture she'd left for him to take. He had thought about just putting on the ring when she was in the house, but he got the impression that it wouldn't help him, she had this way of looking at him that gave the impression that, ring or no ring, she'd still be able to see him. So he had taken to hiding in the airing cupboard; it had a door that looked really, really solid.  
  
"Room for one more?" Merry opened the door of the airing cupboard and looked at Frodo pleadingly.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I need to hide."  
  
"No you don't, or at least you shouldn't, it could be bad for the baby if you don't let the midwife give you all the proper checkups."  
  
"I'm not hiding from her, she left almost a quarter of an hour ago. I'm hiding from Pippin."  
  
"Why are you hiding from Pippin? I thought you two had sorted out all those arguments - you were all over each other last night."  
  
"That's the problem. For the past week he's been completely insatiable and it's not exactly easy for me to do anything, or at least half the stuff he usually likes me to do?"  
  
"Ok, I get the idea, I don't need any sort of description -"  
  
"Honestly, it's like having a small terrier humping your leg, and if I wanted that I'd go visit aunt Petunia."  
  
Frodo looked at him with mute horror.  
  
"What? Don't you remember? She's got that really randy little terrier. Oh come on, I didn't mean it like that, some people round here just need to take their minds out of the gutter -"  
  
Merry abruptly cut off his reprimand when he heard the footsteps in the corridor and tried to climb onto one of the shelves to hide behind a stack of folded sheets, but this was proving difficult because of the size of Merry's bump. He fell over backwards and hit the door, pushing it open and pulling Frodo, who had tried to catch him, out after him, almost right on top of Pippin's feet.  
  
"What are you two doing in there? There isn't something you need to tell me, is there, Merry?"  
  
"No, no...Merry was just telling me that the midwife's gone and it was safe to come out."  
  
"Why did he have to get into the cupboard then?"  
  
"He thought she was still here and pulled me in before anyone saw me."  
  
"I don't see why you have to hide though, she's a bit severe, but not that bad."  
  
"Yeah, she's dead nice when you get to know her and her assistant's a really lovely girl."  
  
"She has an assistant? I never noticed."  
  
"Oh, she's only been coming for the past two weeks. She's ever so friendly, and really pretty, she keeps giving me all these useful tips about make-up." Merry continued, probably against his better judgement.  
  
Pippin looked upset. "I thought you said you only liked boys." He bit his lower lip and tears started gathering at the corners of his eyes.  
  
"I do only like boys, I just said that she's a nice person and she's pretty, I don't have to like girls like that to notice those things." Merry looked desperate. "But you're much prettier than she is."  
  
Pippin's eyes lit up. "Really? Do you want to show me?" Merry looked at Frodo anxiously. "Could you prove it to me that you really only like boys."  
  
Merry nodded resignedly and allowed himself to be dragged off to Pippin's bedroom. He really wanted to make this relationship work, especially since there were going to be children involved soon, so just this once (and possibly the next time and the next time, then a few more times after that) he was going to have to put Pippin's needs, or in this case, rampant desires, ahead of his, which right now involved not a big comfy chair and a lot of food. Well, at least there might be food...  
  
They emerged again a few hours later at teatime, looking a little more than a little dishevelled.  
  
"You two look like you settled your argument," said Frodo. He was a little jealous of the fact that he wasn't going to be seeing any action - keeping the pregnancies secret meant that none of them were getting out much - so took every available opportunity to tease his cousins about their increasingly passionate relationship.  
  
"What do you mean?" asked Merry innocently.  
  
"Well, you could at least have waited until you had cooled down a little before coming for tea, you both look like you spent the afternoon running from here to the Three Farthing Stone and back."  
  
Merry and Pippin looked at each other. "This? No, this is just pregnancy glow, perfectly innocent pregnancy glow. I'm just so happy about everything I've gone all radiant and see-through," said Pippin, grinning mischievously.  
  
"Then what's that on your neck? It looks like whipped cream."  
  
Pippin put his hand up to his neck to wipe it. "Actually it's not. It's mayonnaise."  
  
*****  
  
That evening as Frodo was clearing away the dishes and small quantity of leftovers after dinner, Merry and Pippin sat together by the fire, sprawled out on the thick, woolly hearthrug.  
  
"Merry...?"  
  
"What? If you want me to do that again, you're going to have to wait until tomorrow - between you and this baby my back's killing me."  
  
"Oh." Pippin thought for a moment. "Do you want me to give you a back massage then?"  
  
Merry gave the offer some consideration. A massage would be great, but he and Pippin had done this sort of thing before and it could end up making things worse. It wasn't that Pippin was bad at giving massages - the exact opposite was true - he was a little too good and they might get a little carried away, or, given Pippin's current state of mind, a lot carried away. Pippin seemed to guess what he was thinking.  
  
"We won't do anything else if you don't want to. You know I love you and I just want to help you. Please?"  
  
Merry relented and pulled himself into a more upright position with his back to Pippin who immediately grabbed his shoulders and started working his way up and down with his fingers.  
  
"Is this helping?"  
  
Merry made a noise halfway between a purr and a moan to indicate that it was.  
  
"How about this?"  
  
Pippin pulled himself in closer to Merry as his hands wandered under Merry's shirt and began tracing slow, soft circles over the ever-growing bump. Merry leaned back to nuzzle his head into Pippin's neck, alternately kissing and tickling with his curly hair.  
  
"It looks you and the baby are both enjoying this," said Pippin, sliding his hands upwards.  
  
Merry made the noise again.  
  
"I love it when you do that, you're just like a great big cat, sitting in my lap waiting to be stroked." He leaned forward to kiss the skin just above the collarbone exposed by the shifting of neckline of Merry's shirt. "It's very, very...argh!"  
  
With surprising agility Pippin bounced backwards and Merry fell over, yelping as his head hit the floor. There was the noise of a plate being dropped hurriedly into the sink and Frodo ran through from the kitchen.  
  
"What happened? Are you two alright? Should I go and find the midwife?"  
  
"No, Pippin just dropped me on the floor," said Merry, sitting up and rubbing the back of his head.  
  
Frodo looked at Pippin who was now sitting in the opposite corner of the room and attempting to hug his knees, but not too closely. "What did you do that for?" He looked at Pippin's face and his tone changed from questioning to concerned. "Are you alright, Pippin? You've gone white as a sheet."  
  
Pippin shook his head slowly. "It's Merry, he's...he's..."  
  
Merry looked as if he was about to start crying again. "Just tell us, Pip, it's ok," said Frodo softly.  
  
"Merry's got bosoms!"  
  
Frodo looked shocked for a moment, but recovered quickly. "Well, Merry's not exactly lightly built, and a lot of other male Hobbits have a bit of padding in their chests, don't they?"  
  
"Not like that. They were like a girl's, all round and squishy."  
  
Merry really did start crying. "You mean you've touched a girl's...bosoms?"  
  
"No, of course I haven't, it's just what I imagined they'd be like."  
  
"Liar. You like girls and you don't like me because I'm all unnatural and I'm not one thing or the other!"  
  
"I do, it's just..."  
  
"I'm all wrong!" Merry threw his arms around Frodo's neck and cried until a damp patch started to appear on his shoulder. Frodo patted him somewhat awkwardly.  
  
"I'm sure Pippin didn't mean it like that."  
  
"Yes he did."  
  
"No, I didn't. I just got a bit of a fright, I mean, there's a new bit of you that wasn't there this afternoon."  
  
"I don't believe you."  
  
Pippin pulled Merry off of Frodo's shoulder and tried to hug him, except that it didn't quite work and it involved a lot of bending and twisting that they were finding more and more difficult each day. By the time they had settled down into a comfortable position they were both giggling at the absurdity of the situation.  
  
"Do you believe me now?"  
  
Through his tears, Merry smiled and nodded.  
  
*****  
  
The next morning Merry awoke to find Pippin asleep next to him with one arm draped across his stomach and his head pillowed on his chest.  
  
"I see you're getting used to my new shape."  
  
"Mhm." Pippin moved his hand up next to his head.  
  
"Yes, and that's all very well, but do you think you could put them down for just a few minutes...?"  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because...oh, I don't know, it's just that in a few weeks I'll have a baby hanging on to me there, and in the mean time, I'd like to be by myself for a while and not have a full grown Hobbit attached to me."  
  
"Alright, but can I hang on to you for some of the time?"  
  
"I suppose so, if you really want to hang on to such a strange and unnatural creature as me."  
  
"You're no more strange and unnatural than me, and anyway, it's like having the best of both worlds."  
  
"You mean you like it that I'm not like everyone else?"  
  
"You are like one other person. You're like me, and if there are only two of us freaks in the Shire I'm going to hold on to you."  
  
"What if there are other freaks like us in the Shire, because I've seen the family trees and there probably are?"  
  
"Then I'll still hold on to you."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because I love you. And you're very comfortable." 


	3. Chapter 3

"Aaaaarghooooooooooooooowwwwwwwwnonononnotagain!"  
  
Pippin sat on the floor in the hallway listening to the screams coming from Merry's bedroom. He rubbed his eyes and tried to stay awake; he'd been there for almost an hour and it was only now that the first signs of sunrise were yet to come over the horizon. He had wanted to be in there with Merry to help him through it, but the midwife had objected. Normally she was quite liberal when it came to allowing fathers into the delivery room, but she had made an exception in Pippin's case for ominous sounding reasons that had never been fully explained and Frodo had been instructed to keep Pippin as far away as possible from Merry when he was giving birth. He had argued that it would be educational, but it had been decided that it was an education he would be better off without. It was all definitely far too ominous for Pippin's liking.  
  
Frodo emerged from the bedroom looking incredibly pale and shaking slightly, untold horrors visible in his deep blue eyes. He sat down beside Pippin.  
  
"Oh, Frodo, is it really hurting poor Merry that badly? I heard him screaming, it sounds awful." Pippin started to subconsciously curl up self- protectively.  
  
"No, that was me screaming, he keeps squeezing my hand. And there are things going on down there that you really don't want to know about."  
  
"So Merry's alright then?"  
  
"No, he looks even more terrified than you do, but the midwife should be here soon, so don't worry, he'll be fine."  
  
"Really?" Pippin looked at Frodo in a surprisingly childlike way for someone about to become a father for the first - and soon after, the second - time.  
  
"Yes, really. I have every faith in Miss Bracegirdle. I just hope she's a good nurse as well because I think Merry's broken my hand." Frodo looked at Pippin awkwardly and tried to smile, then put one arm around his shoulders in what he hoped would seem like a friendly way. "Why don't you go make some tea to take your mind off things and I'll go back in again and see how Merry is."  
  
Pippin got up with a little difficulty as he was a little shorter and of a much lighter build than Merry and didn't carry it as well as him. This didn't seem to bother Pippin, however, as it was a perfect excuse to get sympathy and massages from Merry, not that that would continue when he – he corrected himself – they had a baby to look after. Two babies.  
  
Pippin's increasingly worried train of thought was derailed right there when there was a knock at the back door. It was Anemone, apprentice to the terrifying Miss Bracegirdle.  
  
"Morning, Mr Took, you're looking awfully miserable for someone who's just about to become a father."  
  
Pippin just looked at her.  
  
"Oh, come on, in a few years you'll look on this as one of the happiest days of your life. Now where's Mr Brandybuck, I'd best go and get things started before Miss Bracegirdle gets here."  
  
"She's not coming yet?" Pippin dropped the kettle in panic.  
  
"No, she's still out at another birth and has to wait until she's seen it through, so she sent me ahead to check on things here."  
  
"Couldn't she have left you and come here herself?"  
  
"I am nearly a fully trained midwife, you know," said Anemone, pulling herself up to her full and rather intimidating 3'8". "Last week I almost managed to birth one all by myself."  
  
"Yes, but this isn't something many midwives see in their training, and Miss Bracegirdle's the only midwife in the Shire who's done it before."  
  
"It's not exactly a normal case she's at right now. The poor girl's been at it all day yesterday and most of the night before. It's her first – twins as well – you wouldn't believe the amount of blood and yuck. And the screaming - it'll be a stitches case for sure. Are you alright, Mr Took? You've gone terribly pale."  
  
"Yes, fine, I think I'll just go outside for a little air. Merry's in the bedroom at the very end of the corridor."  
  
"You don't have to worry about him, you know, I'm sure he'll be fine. It'll all be over by lunchtime. Dinnertime at the latest."  
  
****** ******  
  
Pippin was sitting at the kitchen table finally drinking his cup of tea and not feeling that much calmer for it when Frodo came out of Merry's room again. Pippin looked up from swirling the tealeaves to see the suspiciously wide grin on Frodo's face.  
  
"Is it going well?" Pippin asked hopefully.  
  
"Oh, yes, definitely." Frodo paused for a second. "As well as could be expected anyway."  
  
"What do you mean? Why are you grinning like that? Are you trying to hide something? Frodo, you would tell me if there was something wrong with Merry, wouldn't you?"  
  
"There's nothing wrong with Merry, apart from the fact that he's male and pregnant, of course."  
  
"Then why do you keep making all those faces?"  
  
"No reason. Anyway, there was something Anemone wanted me to get something for her, we need some hot water and towels."  
  
"Whatever for?"  
  
"What do you mean, 'whatever for'? You always need hot water and towels at a birth."  
  
"But why? What do you use them for?"  
  
"You just need them, they're… useful." Frodo refilled the kettle and lit the fire to heat the water. "When the water boils, pour it into the basin for me and I'll go and find some towels. I'm not quite sure what we'll need them for, but I have got a pretty good idea that using the best ones might not be entirely sensible if what I've seen already is anything to go by. Not that you've got anything to worry about of course…"  
  
Pippin curled up in the chair again making a face and intending to have a good long sulk. Frodo knew there wasn't any use in trying to talk to him when he was in a mood like this and went to find the towels. When he came back Pippin was staring out of the window and probably ignoring him, so he tiptoed out with the water and left him to it.  
  
****** ******  
  
There was a knock at the door and Pippin got up to answer it but Miss Bracegirdle stepped through it before he got there, armed with a sense of great purpose and a carpet bag full of instruments that Pippin had come to dread over the last few months.  
  
"Well then, Peregrin, I believe things have started to get interesting around here in the last few hours."  
  
Pippin mumbled something inaudible, but he was sure that Miss Bracegirdle would notice the overtones of cheekiness in it. Miss Bracegirdle chose to ignore this, even though bad manners in general were not usually something she had any tolerance for, and looked at Pippin critically. Almost looking through him, he thought.  
  
"You're looking a little off-colour, are you sure you're alright?"  
  
"Yes." Pippin returned to sulking in a chair in the corner of the room, trying to imply that he would rather be left alone.  
  
"I suppose you're having trouble with that sympathy pain nonsense. I don't hold with woolly thinking like that, it never helped anyone."  
  
There was silence, but she could tell from the back of Pippin's head that he was making a face; she might not have been a mother, but she had been around enough children over the years to evolve a better instinct for it than a teacher.  
  
"Well, make yourself a cup of tea to take your mind off it, or go and do something useful, you're no good to anyone lurking in corners like that and making a nuisance of yourself."  
  
Pippin made another face with the false sense of security that no one except him would know about it. Come to think of it, there might be something in 'that sympathy pain nonsense', but then it was probably just his imagination, and as he was too tired to get up and make any more tea, he drifted off to sleep with his head leaning over the arm of the chair at an uncomfortable angle.  
  
****** ******  
  
"Mr Took, Mr Took, wake up."  
  
Pippin groaned and opened one eye slowly. He had been warm and comfortable and not getting in anyone's way and having a most interesting dream about sentient carrots that he was going to have to tell Merry about later and now someone was trying to wake him up. It was Anemone. Pippin was instantly fully awake.  
  
"What's happening? Is the baby here? Is everything alright?"  
  
"My goodness, didn't your mother teach not to ask so many questions, it'll end up getting you into trouble one day, you know. But everyone's alright, well, Mr Brandybuck and the baby are, but we need you to come and give us a hand with Mr Baggins." Anemone grabbed Pippin's hand and started pulling him out of the kitchen towards the bedrooms.  
  
"Frodo? What's happened to him?"  
  
"Well, things were just starting to get a bit messy when he fainted and hit is head on the bedside table on the way down. He gave us all a bit of a scare and at the moment we've got so many other things to do that we haven't got time to sit with him and make sure he hasn't done himself too much damage, so Miss Bracegirdle says you'll have to do it."  
  
Anemone pushed open the door to reveal Frodo lying stretched out on the bed in the spare room, theatrically holding his handkerchief to his head just above his left eyebrow and looking deathly pale. She swept across the room and sat down in the chair beside the bed with a caring expression that Pippin thought she must practise in the mirror every morning. It was utterly sickening.  
  
"Are you feeling any better?" asked Anemone, brushing Frodo's hair back from his forehead and lifting up the handkerchief.  
  
Frodo nodded silently and looked up at her, blinking in an exaggerated way.  
  
"Well, I'm afraid I can't stay here and look after you all morning, I have to get back to work but I'll be back later. You know where I'll be if you need any help, don't you, Mr Took?" Anemone gave him another concerned look and Frodo reciprocated with some more blinks.  
  
When Anemone had finally finished dragging herself away from Frodo's bedside and waved from the other side of the room while offering reassurance for the last time, Pippin sat down in the chair. "She's gone now, you can stop faking."  
  
"I'm not, really, I've seen horrors you can only imagine." There was a haunted look in Frodo's eyes.  
  
"I'm not stupid you know, I know you can make yourself faint or go pale just by concentrating hard enough on it."  
  
"And I'm not stupid either, if had know I was going to faint I wouldn't have stood so close to the bedside table because that bloody hurt."  
  
"But you're deliberately making yourself look pale and vulnerable, aren't you?" Frodo looked guilty. "I can't understand why though, she's 20 years younger than you at least and it's not even as if you like girls. I think you're just doing it for the attention, which isn't very nice considering the day you've chosen for it."  
  
"What do you mean, 'it's not even as if I like girls'?"  
  
"Everyone knows, Frodo, you don't have to try and keep it a secret, especially not from me and Merry."  
  
"I do like girls! I'd like to think that I'm pretty broadminded about the choices you and Merry have made, but really, I like girls."  
  
"Then why aren't you married?" Pippin sat back in the chair looking smug; it wasn't every day he came up with arguments as good as this one.  
  
"I don't know - they just don't seem interested in me. And exactly how many people 'know' I'm gay, anyway?"  
  
****** ******  
  
For the first time in months the hour for elevenses came and went without anyone so much as going to make a cup of tea. Pippin was utterly sick of tea and was sure if he tried to boil the kettle once more today the bottom would fall out. Frodo hadn't wanted anything to eat either; actually he was behaving rather strangely, seeming to alternate at high speed between feeling better and worse – the bad spells tending to correspond with Anemone's increasingly frequent visits to check on him. The two of them were having a suspiciously giggly conversation, given the circumstances and Pippin was having more and more trouble getting information about Merry out of Anemone. At least it couldn't be because there were problems she didn't want to talk to him about – Pippin was sure her mood wouldn't have been so cheerful if there was.  
  
Pippin had taken to sitting in the corner of the room which he thought must be closest to where Merry was and stared at the wall cringing whenever he heard another scream. This time there was no doubt about whose screams they were. He couldn't remember having ever been this afraid in his life because he'd never had so many people to be afraid for before. He was afraid for Merry and for his, or rather, their baby, he reminded himself, but he was ashamed of how afraid he was for himself. He understood now that when Miss Bracegirdle had forbidden him from being present at the birth it had been for a very good reason, not just because she disapproved slightly of their relationship – if he had been in there he was sure he would have run off in fear of his life long before now.  
  
Pippin smiled to himself; Merry had always screamed like a girl, ever since they were children and he made a mental note to tease him about this as soon as Merry was up to having visitors coming in to tease him. He hoped this would be soon because now the screams were coming closer together and sounding far more desperate when they did. Frodo even got up from the bed and perched on the arm of Pippin's chair to hold his hand as a silent gesture of solidarity.  
  
Silence. The screaming had stopped altogether and then suddenly it restarted, but at a much higher pitch and a little quieter. Pippin stood up with his hand over his mouth in the shock of realisation, and then he grabbed Frodo, clumsily pulling him into a hug, laughing and crying at the same time.  
  
Neither of them knew exactly how long they stood like that, but eventually there was a knock at the door. It was Anemone.  
  
"Now before you go asking all your questions, it's a boy and they're both fine as far as we can tell. Congratulations."  
  
"When can I go in and see them?"  
  
Anemone looked almost a little disappointed that she still hadn't managed to stop Pippin asking questions. "In a few minutes, Miss Bracegirdle just wants to get things organised and, um, tidied up in there before you see them." She absentmindedly rubbed at a stain on her dress that Pippin thought looked a lot like blood, but right now he didn't want to speculate.  
  
Pippin looked at Frodo. "You're not waiting for me, are you?" asked Frodo. "You're about to go and meet your son for the first time, I'm sure you don't need me cluttering the place up."  
  
Pippin tried to smile, he was even more afraid now than he had been before, but he didn't want it to show. He got up and walked to the door, his feet feeling like they were wearing lead shoes. Halfway down the hall he stopped, he could still feel Frodo and Anemone's eyes on him even from here, but there was something else wrong with the situation. Oh yes, he was in complete, unbearable agony. His legs gave way from underneath him and the last thing he remembered was the sound of two pairs of feet running down the corridor in an attempt to catch him before he hit the ground.  
  
Too late.  
  
****** ******  
  
A/N: Mwhahahahaha. 


End file.
